Week 1 (continued)Saturday 20 September 1997

Finally the big emotional moment came,
as we arrived in Harare
and stepped out onto African soil - Kathy's first time, and
Alan's first in nearly 30 years, since the former South African
regime refused him permission to live in that country in 1967.
Harare is a small airport by world standards, so you have to walk
from the 747 to the terminal, which is unchanged since the 1960's
and getting a bit run down.

When our luggage finally arrived, we
discovered that the "free"
trolley came attached to a porter, who expected to be paid. Kathy
discreetly took some money from her purse, carefully watched by
at least two men with nothing else to do (criminals? police?). We
approached immigration control, who were not happy that we didn't
know the address of the Coxall family, with whom we would be
staying; we knew only their e-mail address, and that they had
promised to meet us. After clearing that hurdle, we never did see
a customs officer; our porter simply led us through the door
marked "nothing to declare" (how did he know?).

Once outside, we were met by Brenda
Coxall and a representative
of EuropeCar. After signing papers for the car and learning the
mysteries of its anti-theft system, we followed Brenda's car to
her home in the suburbs. After we had another short nap, Brenda
and daughter Natasha walked us to a nearby bird sanctuary where
we saw an island in the middle of a lake, with every tree on the
island covered in white cranes, all squawking noisily. Kathy's
first impression of Harare was the scent of the tropical flowers
and the trees, which reminded her of her home in Paraguay, and
the sounds of the frogs and the crickets at dusk.

Back at the house, Charles Coxall and
son Nathaniel returned from
a church men's retreat, just as Brenda and Natasha put a fine
dinner on the table. Over dinner we chatted about places and
people we both knew (Charles, like Alan, had lived in Luanshya,
Zambia in the 1960's). After dinner, we used Charles' e-mail
account to contact our sons at home, then we went to bed.

Sunday 21 September 1997

At 8:00 AM Sunday we attended "Hear The
Word Ministries" with the
Coxalls. It was good to see the congregation well-mixed racially.
The service that day had a strong North American flavour: one of
the elders came onstage in a poncho and a sombrero, and strumming
a guitar, to promote a fundraising Mexican dinner; five women
sang a great Southern gospel song; and the sermon, on God
overcoming marriage problems, was by a visiting American couple
who had been in Zimbabwe only three days.

After church we were introduced to
"Metro", a local shopping
centre something like the North American Costco. There Alan found
things that he hadn't seen in 30 years, such as Mazoe Orange
Squash, and Kathy found guavas, her favorite tropical fruit. Alan
saw many other brand names unknown in Canada, but remembered from
his youth: Royal desserts, Moyer's essences, Tanganda and Pitco
tea, Sparletta soft drinks, Fatti & Moni's pasta, All Gold
ketchup, Arnold's cookies, and so on. Somehow Alan felt better
knowing they were still in business!

Harare was beautiful, because we had arrived during the few weeks
of each year when the jacaranda trees bloom; their beautiful
purple-blue flowers form a canopy overhead and carpet the streets
and sidewalks beneath them. Not to be outdone, the bougainvillea
lit up the hedges with its crimson blossoms.

After lunch with the Coxalls, we drove
east to a private game
park they recommended, called Imire. We correctly took the Mutari
road and turned right just before Marandera, but two kilometres
later we missed a signpost. About the time we should have arrived
at Imire, we reached a junction, where the local people said,
"Take the left fork". Soon we saw a signpost to Imire; that road
began as corrugated ruts, then became a rock pile, and we slowed
to a crawl to avoid damaging the rental car. Finally, after
fording a small stream, we reached a one-lane tarred road. Seeing
no more signposts, we asked some schoolgirls at a bus stop, who
said, "Go one kilometre this way and then turn right." That
proved to be Imire's driveway.

As we entered, two Land Rovers full of
guests passed us, leaving
for the Sundowner game watch. As we pulled up to the guest house,
the owner came out to meet us and said, "Oh, shame. You've missed
the people. Just drop your bags in your room and I'll take you to
them." As her truck forded a stream on her way to catch up with
the Land Rovers, we realized we were driving over the same road
we'd just come in on, and she said, "Oh, yes, I know the way you
came; you drove about 60 km too far that way." The next day, when
we returned via the correct route, that road was, in fact, much
better and much shorter.

We caught up with the other guests at the rhino corral. The
rhinos like to rub their horns against the wooden bars, and have
worn out one section which had to be replaced with metal. The
rhinos came to Imire as orphans, after poachers killed their
mothers for their horns, and though they are now full-grown, they
still relate to humans because Imire continues to bottle-feed
them daily. Guests tip a four-litre jug of skim milk, with a
rubber hose nozzle, straight into the rhino's mouth, delighting
both rhino and guest. So Kathy bottle-fed a two-ton rhino!

Then we joined the other guests on the
Land Rovers and went to
the lake. Mounting an observation platform, we watched the hippos
playing in the water. As the sun went down, the guests sipped
champagne while a game guard threw food pellets on the beach,
immediately attracting the hippos to wade ashore. They were met
by sable antelopes, impalas and other smaller animals who came
done the hill to eat and drink.

When it was dark, we were driven back
to the lodge, where we
unpacked in our spacious, comfortable thatched rondavel ("round
house"). It had mosquito nets over our beds, traditional chairs
made of two pieces of carved flat wood which slide apart for
carrying, and a book of tourist information bound in hand-printed
art, on paper hand-made from the thoroughly washed dung of
Imire's own elephants (this paper is currently the rage among
artists worldwide). Kathy found a large insect with a long pointy
nose perched on our lampshade; she identified it as the kind of
bloodsucker she had seen in Paraguay, and wouldn't go near until
Alan killed it.

Dinner was by candlelight on the
verandah of the main lodge,
where we shared our table with an Australian family. We enjoyed a
creamed spinach appetizer, followed by a beautiful filet steak
with wonderfully fresh vegetables, and delicious chocolate
mousse. Then we went inside the lodge for cheese and crackers,
tea and coffee, and liqueurs for those who wanted them, served
beside a cozy log fire.

At dinner the owner asked us whether we
wanted to watch birds or
ride elephants the next morning. We chose the elephants. Kathy
was a little reluctant, but we knew this might be our only
opportunity to ever do this. The owner obviously loves people,
and not only takes great care of her guests, but also has
excellent rapport with all her staff.

After coffee time we retired to our rondavel and let down the
mosquito nets. As we let Kathy's down, a tiny lizard fell on her
bed and had to be chased away. Each room had a mosquito coil, so
we lit ours, but within five minutes we had trouble breathing, so
we extinguished it and relied on our nets and our mosquito
repellent (and if those failed, on the doxycycline). Kathy
expected to see a snake next, but that didn't happen.

Monday 22 September 1997

An early morning knock at the door brought coffee and cookies to
start our day. After our snack, we were taken to the elephants.
Imire has trained four elephants, all brought there as poacher
orphans, for riding. Kathy had hurt her shin getting into the
Land Rover and had difficulty climbing, so they gave her the
smallest elephant, thinking it would be easier to mount. These
elephants don't have saddles, just blankets thrown over their
backs for you to sit on. We each sat behind an experienced guide
already known to the elephant, and once Kathy was seated, the
guide said "Hang on to me." Holding our video camera in one hand,
Kathy put her other arm around the guide and hung on tightly.
It's good that she did, because when an elephant stands up, one
end stands up before the other, and you get tossed around!

With everyone mounted, our elephants
headed down the trail. We
soon learned that Kathy's elephant was the smallest because she
was also the youngest and the least trained; she kept wandering
off the trail to break branches off trees and strip them of tasty
leaves, oblivious to what the trees might do to her passengers,
and her guide had to keep steering her back to the path. Kathy
continued to cling tightly to the guide, and at one point he
said, "Ma'am, are you afraid?" She asked, "Why, am I breaking
your ribs?" and he answered, "Yes!" So we rode the elephants
along the trail for about half an hour. They are huge creatures,
but very gentle in their way -- though you wouldn't want one to
stand on you, even gently!

After our ride, we returned to the main
lodge for a full English
breakfast served in the garden. Then it was time to return to the
Land Rover for the daily game drive. These Land Rovers have three
tiers of seats, so even the back row can see well. Our guide,
whose name was Never, drove the Land Rover while a game spotter
sat on the spare tire on the hood of the Land Rover and pointed
the moment he saw game. Then Never would stop and give us a short
but expert talk about the animals, while we took pictures. Never
was a fun-loving, teasing fellow who said his name came from what
his mother said after giving birth to him: "Never again!"

During our drive we passed several
interesting formations of huge
boulders balanced on top of one another. These formations are
common in northern Zimbabwe; there were several within the
boundaries of Imire, which, at 45 square kilometres, is 40% the
size of Vancouver, Canada. Geologists say up to 10 metres of soil
has washed away, leaving the boulders behind. But Never said with
a straight face that he had been very busy piling up those rocks,
and Kathy almost fell for it. A little while later as we went
past another rock formation, Kathy said, "Oh, look, Never! You've
been very busy!" and he replied, "No, I hired a contractor for
that one, and they brought in cranes. The big one over there is
my masterpiece."

Another of Never's jokes was pointing
to some barn-like
buildings, two stories high, and telling us they were barns for
the giraffes, and that the coal piled in bins outside them was in
case the giraffes got cold. Actually, they were old tobacco
drying barns, as the owner's family were tobacco farmers.

During our drive we saw zebras, buffaloes, rhinos, crocodiles,
kudus, impalas, nyalas, and more elephants roaming the property
freely. We also saw a pair of lions inside a large fenced area
with their own hill. Kathy was grateful for the fence when the
male charged at her!

Halfway through the game drive, we were
driven to the top of a
kopje (hill) for lunch and were served a wide variety of hot and
cold foods. During lunch, an elephant joined us and we were
permitted to feed it by placing food pellets on the upturned end
of its trunk, which it then deftly placed in its mouth without
spilling anything.

One highlight of Imire was seeing Nzou. She was the first orphan
elephant brought to Imire 20 years ago, and through inexperience,
they put her with a herd of buffalo. She bonded with the
buffaloes, and since elephant tribes are led by a female, she
grew up to lead the buffalo herd. The buffaloes have accepted
this because she's the largest and most powerful member of their
herd. Now and then a male buffalo tries to challenge her
leadership, but as Never put it, "a swish of the trunk and a bit
of tap-dancing, and it's all over." So far she has killed
fourteen male buffaloes. On the other hand, she saved the life of
a guard who was attacked by the buffaloes. Scientists from all
over the world have come to study her identity crisis, and among
other things have learned that her cycle is now the same length
as a female buffalo. Watching her lead the herd is extraordinary;
every time she changes direction, all the buffaloes follow
her.

Driving all over the plain with a game spotter sitting on the
hood of our Land Rover reminded us of one of our favourite
movies, The Gods Must Be Crazy, and to complete the similarity,
our Land Rover broke down! Never pumped and pumped the
accelerator, but nothing happened because the cable had snapped.
Fortunately we were only 500 metres from the end of our drive, so
we walked to the owner's home, where we had afternoon tea (which
actually meant soft drinks and cake) and our wonderful 24 hours
at Imire were over.

After tea we drove back to Harare
(along the correct road this
time) and went straight to EuropeCar, who had promised to
exchange our small Hyundai for a tougher Toyota Venture before we
left for Zambia. On Saturday they had offered to make the switch
Monday night and told us they were open 24 hours, but when we
arrived on Monday they said, "We only have emergency service at
night; we don't exchange cars - come back tomorrow morning."

So we set out for the Coxalls; but,
being unfamiliar with the
scale of our Harare map, we thought we had gone too far and
turned back, when we actually hadn't gone far enough. So, after
visiting downtown Harare twice in once night, we finally reached
the Coxalls, who were a little concerned about us being so late.
After another good dinner with the Coxalls, they took us to visit
Charles' parents, where we talked about the old days in Luanshya
where his mother trained nurses and his father raced speedboats.
we also watched our video of Imire on their TV.

Week 2Tuesday 23 September 1997

Early in the morning Alan went into
Harare to exchange cars at
EuropeCar. It took a while to complete the paperwork, some of
which was in Latin which nobody at Europcar understood, but Alan
had to sign it anyway. On his way back to the Coxalls, just
before reaching their turnoff from the Mutare road, Alan saw a
sign with the "ae" logo of African Enterprise and quickly turned
off to investigate. He had stumbled on the Zimbabwe headquarters
of African Enterprise, located on the property of a local
church.

Alan drove in and introduced himself to
the staff present, about
ten people sharing about five offices. Over tea and cookies they
explained they were just about to start a city-wide mission to
Masvingo (which we subsequently heard went well). Alan explained
how he became a Christian in 1965 through one of African
Enterprise's first activities, a university mission. He then told
them something of Kathy's background, who the Mennonites are, how
they were persecuted by both Stalin and Hitler, and what had
happened to Kathy's family. When they heard that the refugee
Mennonites arrived in Paraguay with very little, and built
themselves huts just like those in an African village, they could
relate to that.

One of the evangelists, Dick Marisa
(whose name means "Shepherd"
in Shona), heard that Alan worked with computers, and asked Alan
to install some software for him. Alan first called the Coxalls
to let Kathy know he would be late; she was already concerned
that he might have had an accident. While Alan installed the
software, Dick took notes of their conversation, explaining that
he is also a freelance journalist, and might use Alan in a story
someday.

Alan returned to the Coxalls place and
we loaded our bags, plus
numerous bottles of drinking water they had boiled for us, into
the Venture. After saying goodbye to the Coxalls we took the main
road from Harare to Chirundu, passing through towns Alan
remembered from his youth - Banket, Chinhoyi, Karoi. When we
reached the Kariba turnoff at Makuti, Alan told Kathy how he had
waited outside the motel there for hours, while hitch-hiking from
Durban to Luanshya in 1965. A man from Harare left the motel bar
and got into a new Volvo, and Alan thought he might finally get a
ride; but after studying Alan, the man sped off to the north.
Three hours later Alan did get a ride, and just across the
Zambian border he found the same Volvo, wrecked, with the driver
dead.

Back in 1997, we left the Chirundu road
at Makuti and headed for
Kariba. Along the way we saw baboons, buffalo herds, even a small
herd of elephants. It was dark when we reached Kariba's city
centre, and we asked a group of women where to find the Kariba
Heights hotel. It was only a block away, and had been renamed the
Most High hotel. This hotel came recommended by a friend of the
Coxalls, although a travel agency told them, "You wouldn't want
to stay there, they have a lot of funny rules." As we checked in,
we were told the "funny rules": (1) no tobacco, (2) no alcohol,
and (3) unmarried couples get separate rooms.

We really enjoyed the Most High hotel. The rooms are on the top
floor, with excellent views of Lake Kariba. They are comfortable,
air-conditioned, attractively decorated with local handicrafts,
and - not to be taken for granted in Africa! - all the plumbing
and wiring works. The floor below has a lounge, a balcony with
lake views, and a spacious dining room. We dined by candlelight
and enjoyed a wonderful atmosphere, an excellent menu, and
friendly service - not to mention affordable prices.

We learned that the Most High hotel is
owned and operated by
Christians. The room rates, which seemed modest to us, are even
lower for missionaries, as the owners want the hotel to be a
place of rest and recreation for hard-working missionaries who
need a break. While we were there, a volunteer team from a church
in the USA was tackling some maintenance work, which could
explain how they keep the prices low.

That night, despite the heat of the Zambezi valley outside, we slept well in our cool room.

Wednesday 24 September 1997

At breakfast we met John and Belinda Janman, Australian missionaries working in Chingola, Zambia. Their young son was feeling the heat, which peaked at 42 C that day. They advised us to remove our sunglasses and smile when approaching police roadblocks in Zambia, so the police could establish eye contact. We told them some jokes we'd heard in Zimbabwe: a tourist in Zambia was arrested for drunk driving because he was driving in a straight line; a sober driver would weave around the many big potholes. And if you are driving at night in Zambia and your headlights reflect off eyes at road level, this may be a giraffe that fell into a pothole!

After breakfast, Alan visited a street
vendor selling stone and
wood sculptures, and Kathy went to the women selling crochet
work. While buying a small stone elephant, Alan asked, "Why are
you the only man, but there are twenty women? Are they all your
wives?" "No," said the man, "they are all my mother!" Alan turned
and saw Kathy being jostled by a swarm of women all selling the
same goods, shouting "You saw me first!" or "I showed you the
hotel last night!" and pressing things into her hands, saying,
"Look at this, it's perfect!" By the time Kathy evaded that
throng we owned a tablecloth, twelve placemats, and twelve
coasters.